My Skin
by Skadiyoko
Summary: Adjusting to life in a completely different location than what you're used to is hard for an adolescent. Who knew some normal guy in a wheelchair could secretly be the most amazing person to ever grace the Earth? Alfred sure didn't, but he'll take every surprise Arthur throws at him.


This took me fucking forever.

No more insanely long oneshots.

Never again.

Enjoy your fluff.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Two days had passed since seventeen-year-old Alfred F. Jones moved to Nowhereville, Utah, and he already hated it. The most technologically advanced building in the town was the movie theater. It had four whole screening rooms, and a popcorn machine. Other than that, the most fun places to be were the grocery store, and the smelly lake just outside of the border. At least it was summer, which meant that he did not have to go to a new (tiny) school mid-semester. It eased his mind a little, but not much.

Sighing, the teen rolled over on his bed. Heat rolled off of him in invisible waves, and he did not feel so well because of it. Central air was not installed in the house they had bought, and they had yet to buy an air conditioning unit. Everything was moist and stuffy. Suffocating in a way. It was sometime after three, and all Alfred wanted to do was sleep. Unfortunately these days naps were a luxury he rarely had, his mother often calling on him to help unpack boxes. He guessed he didn't mind much, since the strong American was the type to help anyone who needed it, but sometimes it could be hard taking the first step. Knocking sounded at his door. Speak of the devil. "Yeah?" he yelled, voice muffled in the light cotton sheets.

As the door opened, an almost unnoticeable squeak was pushed out from its hinges. Stepping in the room was his mother, a cool ,red summer dress hanging to her knees. She was a pretty woman with long, golden blonde hair that was pulled into a bun. Kind, almost lilac eyes scanned his mostly bare room in a disregarding fashion. After the divorce she took back her maiden name, making her Madeline Williams once more. Everything about her was quiet and graceful, and there was something about her presence that brought peace to any situation. She was the best mom Alfred could ever ask for, and he would do anything for the woman.

"I made some lemonade," she offered, and only then did the blue-eyed blonde notice the glass of pink, condensating liquid in her hand. Struggling to sit up, he took the cold glass and guzzled half of it's contents down in only two gulps. "You're going to choke one day from doing that," she nagged unamused. "But now that you're nice and refreshed, you have the energy of the young man I need to help with the kitchen! I'd like to get it mostly set up today."

At those words the thank you died on his tongue, along with the previous sweet taste. He grimaced and groaned overdramatically. "Evil woman."

"Not evil, just more clever than you," she sniggered, pinching his nose before twirling to sway from the room. "Come on, I'm tired of eating out. The sooner we're done, the sooner you can have fun."

Huffing, Alfred waited a couple of minutes before heading to the kitchen. His jean shorts, the only clothing he was wearing, felt heavy on his hips. It's not like there was any fun to be had in this dumb town anyway.

.:.:.:.:.

A peculiar man lived across the street, and two houses down from the Williams residence. He was not peculiar because he was bound to a wheelchair, or because he constantly had his legs covered by a blanket, but because the only skin he ever showed was that of his face and fingers. Mid-July was sweltering. On average temperatures ranged from eighty to one hundred degrees. He always wore long sleeves, and even a scarf! Alfred voiced his doubts for the man's sanity to his mother, but she only scolded him for being nosy and rude.

Sometimes he heard people talking about that man when he was out and about. Here the main form of entertainment was gossip, it seemed. Apparently the man's name was Arthur Kirkland, and he was in an accident when he was young, leaving him crippled and scarred. The stories varied greatly, ranging from shootings, to attempted suicide. He did not like that side of the gossip. An elderly woman had been living with Arthur, but she passed away only months ago. Arthur was twenty-one, disabled, and living all alone.

Shaking his head, the teenager paid the cashier at the mini-mart, and left with the butter and gravy he was sent to buy. One good thing was that the handy little store was situated right on the corner of their block. As the boy whistled down the sidewalk, he thought he was beginning to understand why gossip was so common around here. Everybody knew everybody, and any new news was the best excitement they could get on a normal day. But then a sudden explicative reached his ears, startling him from his thoughts.

Across the street was Mr. Kirkland. All decked out in fall-time clothing, he was leaning heavily over his armrest. Blue eyes zoomed in on a wallet sitting innocently on the ground by his chair, just out of his reach. Being the good citizen he was, Alfred did not hesitate to dash across the empty street to help. "I'll get it!" he called as he was halfway there. Shooting up at his voice, the other was still leaning over the chair, but not so the cushioned armrest was digging into his side anymore. Slowly, he sat up, looking as if he were having an internal debate with himself all the way.

As Alfred got closer, he could make out more and more of the man's features. Unruly blonde hair some shades lighter than his own, and pale skin. His face was sharp with high cheekbones and noticeable, dark eyebrows. The shirt he wore was an umber brown, complementing the silk green scarf around his neck. Covering his legs was a heavy, mint green blanket, and black fingerless gloves encased his hands. Retrieving the dropped item, the boy was able to get a look at his eyes. A pretty shade of forest green looked back at him, and he smiled warmly. "Here ya go!"

"Thank you."

Blinking, he stood straighter with a widening grin. The guy was totally British! "No problem, dude! Glad to be of service."

Placing the wallet on his lap, Arthur tilted his head up at him. "Are you from the family that just moved into that house?" he asked, pointing at Alfred's new residence. "I have not seen you around, and in a place this small not knowing someone is unheard of."

Nodding happily, the American stuck his hand out. "Yeah! My name's Alfred Jones, and I just moved here with my mom."

Giving a small smile of his own, the Briton took his hand to shake. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. You are a very kind person, Alfred." Done with the greeting, he absently began to pluck at the leather on his lap. "Thank you very much for the assistance. I used to live with my great aunt, but she passed recently, and I'm still getting used to living on my own."

"I'm sorry for your loss," consoled the teen. Yes he already knew about her death, but it would be in bad taste to say something like that. Though he did not know of Arthur's relationship with the woman, and for some reason he felt special that he learned something about his new acquaintance. Which was just plain silly when he thought about it. Good thing he was not much of a thinker. "But hey, if you ever need anything, I'll be glad to help, Mr. Kirkland!"

Chuckling, the older man brought a slack fist to his mouth. "That's extremely generous of you. I'll keep it in mind." His laughter calmed, but there was still mirth in his eyes. "And wow, Mr. Kirkland? That makes me sound so old."

Alfred guffawed. "All right, all right, Arthur it is."

Shaking his head, the Englishman was still eyeing him with a smile. "So much energy. How on earth does your mother manage?"

"Aw, she's used to it." An idea hit, and his face lit up. "Hey, maybe sometime you can come over and have dinner with us?" Alfred was not entirely sure why he was offering, especially since he had literally just met the man, but he felt like it was the right thing to do. Arthur must be lonely now that he had no one living with him, and that thought made the boy sad. Plus he was a really cool guy, and he wanted to get to know him better. "Like, after we're all settled in and junk. There's still a bunch of stuff that needs to be unpacked."

Again Arthur smiled. It was crooked and awkward, like he never smiled much. But it was endearing and brimming with gratitude. "I would love that."

"Great! Mom's a super good cook, and I know she'd love to have some company."

"I look forward to it then." Lifting his wrist, he checked the watch that was fastened over his sleeve. "Ah, but I must be going now. I would like to get my groceries and be back home before evening sets."

"Okay," acquiesced the American, turning to head home himself before the butter melted. "I'll see ya around!" Waving, Arthur nodded his head slightly.

"Until next time."

.:.:.:.:.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Another three weeks had passed, and Alfred's new home was almost done. They had decided to wait a year or so before they began doing any remodeling projects. As time passed, the American found himself interacting with his neighbor more and more. They would meet on the street, or in a store, and he would never miss the chance to assist Arthur no matter how much the man would try to turn him down. Conversation came easily to them, even though a lot of their interests were completely different. Just last week they talked for two hours in front of Arthur's house.

Alfred had gotten to know his new friend well in that time. He was a complex individual with a sadistic sense of humor and bountiful snark. Arthur was obstinate about his independence, and was quite cryptic to boot. Somewhere between a dreamer and a realist, he baffled Alfred when he would fawn over fairytales, at the same time pointing out how the originals are actually quite gruesome and controversial. When pushed to it, the Brit could be a right grump, and it could take a while to bring him out of his mood. There was also the fact that his vocabulary was as colorful as his personality, and Alfred had learned many new words that he could not memorize the meanings to since he had met him.

Reading was Arthur's hobby. A vast array of books decorated the bookshelf in his home, all worn pages and old smells. Though he loved reading real books, they were exceedingly hard to come by since this town only had a small library that did not allow you to purchase anything. To remedy this he bought a Kindle, which he grudgingly admitted served its purpose. It was easy to use and convenient to carry, so he put up with the "plastic piece of shit."

When Arthur had arrived, the perky teen had burst out the door and jumped his front steps. Not that he was peeking through the curtains for the past half hour or anything. Nor did he bounce around on the couch like an excited puppy when he saw Arthur rolling out of his front door. They had become such close friends in the time they had spent together, and he was the most fun person he had to talk to other than his mom. Alfred was used to friends his age; loud, childish, and active. It was a surprise he enjoyed the Englishman's company so much. He was only twenty-one, but he had the mind of a full-fledged adult. Through matured eyes that knew lifes biggest worries were not about what your friends thought about you, parties, sneaking alcohol, and struggling to pass your classes. Because of Arthur, Alfred looked at things differently, and he felt more grown up that ever.

Since their residence did not have a ramp, the blue-eyed blonde had to help their guest up the stairs. To him, the easiest way would be to lift Arthur up wheelchair and all. So that's exactly what he did. It was an awkward lift, but doable. Gloved hands gripped their armrests for dear life, and foreign cursing erupted from the frightened man. Laughing at his friend's unease, Alfred finished his task and set the chair down right inside the door. After Arthur had caught his breath (why he was the one out of breath, Al would never know), he punched him in the arm, scolding the younger boy fervently. Brushing it off, he walked Arthur in further.

Arthur and Madeline got along splendidly. Observation concluded that he was a lot more gentlemanly around ladies, and Alfred had to admit that he was a natural charmer. Also, his manners were impeccable. The Englishman complemented the dinner, saying the steak was perfect, and the sweet potatoes melted in his mouth. He always said please and thank you, and never spoke with his mouth full. Not so subtle prods were thrown in Alfred's direction when these good manners were brought up, his mother kicking him under the table or making eye contact with him playfully.

All in all, it turned out to be one of the best evenings the American teen had ever had. Once dinner was over, the trio went to digest in the living room. The television was on, but the volume was turned down low. Innocent and amusing stories were shared instead of focusing on the much less interesting programs. Alfred had been thoroughly embarrassed by his mom, who had not only told about his bedwetting problems, but that he used to get so scared someone would find out and bury his underwear in the back yard. His face must have been cherry red from that. But Arthur was laughing heartily, and something about that happy face eased his agitated state. Just a little. Most of the Brit's were about his Great Aunt, who cared for him most of his life since his parents had both died before he was three. Though the subject of his paralysis was carefully avoided, which he seemed grateful for.

Still, Alfred could not deny that he was curious.

Eleven came quickly, and they were all astonished with how time had escaped them. Politely, Arthur had told them that he should head back to his house for the night. They said their goodbyes, and Alfred offered to walk him back. In exasperation, the man had acquiesced, but it was a surprise for the young blonde. He took it, though. Once he took care of the step problem, this time more gently, Arthur waved and called his goodbye to Madeline once more. Grabbing the handles of the chair, Alfred began to push his friend across the barren street. Jostling the Briton, he crossed his arms and grumbled about how he could do it himself.

"I know, but it's really no big deal. Just relax, dude. Me pushing you isn't the end of the world."

"Fine, whatever," he huffed. On the other side of the street, they passed one house before he spoke up again. "I just don't like feeling so bloody helpless."

At that, Alfred tilted his head. "Um, you're as not helpless as a disabled guy can get!" Looking down, the other turned his head as well. "You live all by yourself, you go to the store for yourself, you even clean your house all by yourself! You're not helpless, and I know that, but come on, it must be nice to have someone help you out every once in a while, right?"

Arthur turned more towards the American, but kept silent. As he thought, they finished their journey to his property. Even though the sun had long since fallen, the August night was still warm. Again, he worried about his friend, who must have been positively steaming in the muggy heat. The air was fresh, but so humid that one could not even enjoy it. "I guess... it's not so bad." Alfred beamed at him, and he smiled back tentatively, but it turned into a mischievous smirk. "Okay then, roll me up my ramp, slave."

In mock dramatics, the teenager gasped. "Tyrant!" he exclaimed, but gripped the chair once again and wheeled it up to the porch. "We've reached your destination, Master Kirkland. Might I suggest we take a stroll up the Rocky Mountains in the morn?"

Snickering, Arthur shook his head. "You're one of a kind, Alfred." He unlocked his door. "But I guess that's what I like about you."

A chuckle. "Hey, I'll take it. I'm just glad I don't get on your nerves. Lots of people tell me how annoying I can be..."

Reaching up, the Englishman patted his forearm. "Oh poppet, you get on my nerves all the time." Eyes wide, Alfred gave him a slack-jawed expression. "Oh, come off it," laughed Arthur. "Like I don't annoy you sometimes. It's how the world works, but that does not mean I don't enjoy your company."

"You're a jerk," he pouted.

"I know." Pushing his way into his house, Arthur turned the porch light on. "I had a great time tonight. Your mother is a joy to be around. Tell her I said thank you again, would you?"

"Yeah, 'course. She needs a confidence boost every now and then."

"I could tell," Arthur responded wryly. "Anyway, goodnight. I'll see you later."

"Night!" chirped the American, waving once more before heading home. It took a few minutes for the door behind him to close.

.:.:.:.:.

Something has been gnawing in the pit of Alfred's stomach. It was a vaguely familiar feeling. In the past he had always been able to shrug it off, but now... it would not go away. Clawing at his skin, it scratched and ripped and was not leaving him alone. Unable to figure out what was bothering him, the days passed with him becoming more and more distracted. Whatever it was that was messing with him so much, it was annoying.

Being the unsubtle fish out of water he's always been, it was not long before he attracted his mom's attention. Since she was rarely ever direct, Madeline took to asking him if he were okay, or if he needed anything. Alfred always said no, and she always hesitated, biting her cheek, before leaving him alone. Sometimes the blonde wished his mother would push more. Tell him she knows something is up, and force him to spill. Maybe she could help. He hated admitting when he needed help though, especially to his mom. It was so embarrassing talking to people about feelings and shit.

Huh, maybe he and Arthur were more alike than he first thought?

Arthur. Maybe he should go an visit the guy? Fun could always be found whenever the snappy Briton was around. Hopefully it would help take his mind off of things as well. Yeah, it would totally work! Bouncing from his bed, he threw on a shirt and his sneakers before bounding out of his room. "Bye mom, I'm going to Artie's!" he called, not waiting for a reply before he slammed the door shut.

One thing that's grown on him from the size of the town was how easy it was to get somewhere. There was barely a reason for cars unless you wanted to go to the city, and even if his friend lived on the other side of town he could easily get there on his bike. Arthur was just a hop across the street, and a few skips down the road whenever he needed him. Late afternoon sunlight cast across the neighborhood, casting everything in the always ethereal orange glow of twilight. A few clouds loitered in the sky, yellow and gray and magenta. Barely a breeze has blown all day, making the air heavy and stifling. Even so, the American found the descending night calming.

Knowing full well that the man prefers for his doorbell to be rung, Alfred knocked. He liked to feel special, and for Arthur to know that it was him outside. His friend would deliberately ignore some people if they came to his his house, but he had never turned down Alfred. Within this whole new place, Arthur was his only friend. Maybe that was not a prime situation, but he could not bring himself to care. Sure, he has naturally run into a few of the local teens, but their conversations never went far past greetings. In less than three weeks school would start, and he would have plenty of time to get to know them in such an enclosed environment.

Sometimes it took a while for Arthur to answer the door. Of course the American understood that maneuvering around the house in a wheelchair took longer than it would walking, so he never minded. Though there were times when Arthur would open the door looking extra disheveled, his blanket ruffled and scarf messy. With respect he kept his mouth shut about it, figuring he was just cleaning, cooking, or whatever else there was to be done, and Alfred would always ask if he could help.

This seemed to be one of those times. Leaning against the wall, he took out his phone to start poking around on it heedlessly. It was probably fifteen minutes before the door swung open. As expected the blonde on the other side was unkempt and rumpled.

"Hiya!" Tilting his head at the scowl he was greeted with, he grinned brightly.

"Why is it to difficult to call me before you pop over like this? A bleeding text would be better than showing up with no warning!" nagged the Englishman, rolling his eyes. "Honestly."

Chuckling nervously, he shifted his weight from his left leg to his right. "Sorry Artie," he scratched the back of his neck, "Been kinda spacy all day."

Swiftly Arthur's scowl vanished, replaced by worry. "Are you all right?" Backing from the entryway, he gave Alfred room to go in the house.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Probably just before school jitters, you know?" Walking in, he closed the door behind him. For some reason his friend's house was always warm. Not as hot as outside, but it was kept at about seventy degrees. Still too hot for a normal person, but Arthur said that he was cold a lot. Something about abnormal blood pressure or something. He never went into detail about his medical problems, saying that they're boring and not important enough to drone on about.

"Actually I don't know. I was homeschooled."

"Oh." Well that was a new piece of information. "How come?"

Leading through his living room, the man snorted. It was right inside the door, walls painted deep burgundy and decorated with pretty golden sconces. Generic framed paintings hung here and there, giving the space an elegant look. His couch was a cream color, and must have been very old because there were indents and a couple of stains marring its seats. Alfred figures that Arthur's aunt must have sat in it a lot, since Arthur himself gets no use out of it. Or maybe he does. Beneith those sleeves were strong arms, and it would not be totally ridiculous for the paralyzed man to heft himself from that wheelchair and onto something more comfortable. There was a glass coffee table standing in front of the sofa, smudge free with a glass sitting atop a coaster. A television rested on a wooden stand, DVD player and movies behind its dusted doors. It was a nice room, relaxing and never very bright.

Sitting on the couch, the American kicked his shoes off and brought a leg up on the cushions. Turning slightly, he peered over the arm to look at Arthur. "It was just easier for me to learn at home," he shrugged. "I would have been the black sheep of the school, and I'm already bad with people. Crowds also make me anxious, and I would have been miserable."

"Oh, I see." Resting his head on his forearms, he got more comfortable. "I guess that would be best then. My old school had a kid in a wheelchair, and he did fine."

"Mm, I guess I'm just a special case then."

Peaceful silence hovered over them, allowing Alfred's mind to wander. Arthur's face was relaxed, eyes closed with the teensyest smile pulling at his mouth. His nose was like a pixie's, and he thought it was the cutest nose he had ever seen. But the rest of the Brit's face was sharper, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. His bangs lightly brushed his eyebrows, sweeping in whatever direction they chose. Soft breaths occasionally exhaled through thin lips, toned only a little darker than his normal skin, appealing in a strange way.

"You should tell me what's really on your mind."

Blue eyes flickered to see green staring right back. Startled, Alfred shot back ungracefully. He looked away, biting his lip. "I... I don't want to talk about it..."

"Oh come on, Al. Even if I did have someone to blab all your dark secrets to, you know I wouldn't."

Sighing pitifully, he slumped into the sofa. "I know, but... I don't know what it is myself. Like, there are these weird feelings I've never had before, and they're really fuckin' annoying. It's kinda pissing me off."

Shining in Arthur's eyes was a roguish gleam, and he smiled like he knew something. "Have you ever had a girlfriend before?"

"Yeah?" Of course he has. None of them ever lasted for more than a couple of months, but he knew what attraction was.

His smirk disappeared for a split second, but came back coyly. "Did you like them? I mean butterflies in your stomach, hot cheeked, it's-really-difficult-to-breathe-right-now-but-I-want-to-do-everything-I-can-to-make-her-happy kind of like?"

Wow that was a complicated kind of like, but the teenager thought back regardless. After going through all of his exes, he realized that no, he had never felt that way about them. It was more or less they hung out a lot in school, texted every day, and a lot of awkward hormones. Nothing like Arthur had described. He shook his head.

Giggling, the man pat him on the shoulder. "Well then, my diagnosis is that you have your first serious crush." He was smiling, but for some reason Alfred felt that it was a little forced. That could have been the product of his irrational mind going into overdrive on him, though. Because the only person that he spent time with was this new friend that he had made only a month ago. Sitting right next to him, and patiently helping him with his worries.

Everything clicked. Never one to blush easily, Alfred could not stop the heat rising to his face. Without thinking about how odd or rude it was, he stood and fastidiously pulled at his clothes. "Uh, I think I have to... go... Thanks, and... shit..." With that, he rushed out of there. He may have slammed the door, both Arthur's and his own, but he did not notice. The boy's thoughts and emotions were swirling nauseously, and the rest of the night was a blur of uncertainty.

One thing was for sure. He needed to apologize to Arthur.

.:.:.:.:.

Conquering the first couple days of school was a challenge, but Alfred did it. The year started on a Thursday, which baffled the blonde, but there were no complaints. An early weekend after getting lost time and time again was welcomed. Who knew such a small school would take so long to get used to? He would often walk too far down the hallway, completely overlooking his scheduled classroom because it came much sooner than he expected. He also walked into a closet more than once, much to his embarrassment. Luckily the only thing that happened was every class going over the same rules, and going over a outline of the curriculum.

Since his flustered freakout, he has avoided Arthur. The American would still text his friend, but nothing more. Sometimes the Briton would not even reply. After a lot of thinking, and a gratuitous amount of comfort food, he had finally come to terms with his feelings. Alfred was attracted to Arthur in a way that was more than friendship. Hoping to stop whatever was making him feel so weird about it, he would often repeat this to himself. Not once had he thought about swinging for the other team. When he looks at the other boys at school, he definitely doesn't find them attractive. Sure, he could tell if a guy was good looking, but that was just the unintentional observation all humans had.

Arthur was different.

Very different, from what everyone said. When they first had free time on Thursday, the more rambunctious of his classmates bombarded him with questions about the Englishman. Saying that no one had ever befriended him like Alfred had, thus he had been labeled as the "mysterious man" of the town. Explaining that he was just a nice, normal guy that liked his privacy seemed to deter them. Put off by finding out that Arthur was just a normal guy, soon enough they stopped pestering Alfred on the subject. Which he was glad about. He felt special that he had been let into Arthur's life, and would keep the more personal details about the man to himself.

But... who knows how long they would stay as close as they were. Alfred knew he should tell Arthur about his discovery before the Brit got even more pissed at him. Dishonesty tasted bad, but he was scared. What would he say? The American was expecting rejection, and the thought hurt more than he could ever imagine. It was a lose-lose situation, so he figured telling the truth would be more forgiving than keeping a lie.

It was Saturday, which was when he planned to grow a pair and confess. Taking steady breaths, be buttoned his shirt. Not too shabby, he thought as he looked himself over in the mirror. Though Arthur was used to his shabby just as much as his clean. The teen tried to make himself look casually presentable when he went out, but sometimes it would be a loose basketball shorts, tank top, and mismatched flip-flops kind of day.

A few days ago he had talked to his mom. All of the moping had finally gotten to her, causing the poor woman to snap. To say the least, it was awkward. Beyond that, though, it was refreshing to be able to talk to her about something so personal. Being the calm, kind, and open-minded person she was, Madeline voiced her understanding and support. Knowing that she believed that such things could not be held down because of something like gender, somehow, meant a lot more to Alfred than he thought it would. His mom's approval gave him an extra surge of courage to do what needed to be done.

One more long, deep breath later, the teen left his room. He called a goodbye to his mother, who wished him luck in return. He could not hide anything from her. Striding across the road and two doors down, Alfred ran a hand through his hair, unsuccessfully tucking some of it behind his ear. Sooner than he was ready for, that familiar white door was right there. He knocked stiffly before he lost what little nerve he had left. It dwindled expeditiously since he left the house.

Apparently he caught Arthur off guard again, which was pretty obvious now that he thought about it. Sooner than expected, though, the door flew open. Shocked emeralds were all Alfred saw for a moment. Wide and entrancing. "Alfred?" That shook the boy out of it, and when he really got a good look at his neighbor, he saw the blonde was more disorderly than ever.

"Hey Artie," greeted the American sheepishly. Wow, this was getting indescribably harder now that he was actually there. "Uh, can I come in?"

Arthur was still for a while. Slowly, his lips turned to a sneer. "Oh, I don't know. I guess. Not like you've been ignoring me for over a week."

Grimacing, he scratched the back of his head. "I've been texting you," he mumbled, knowing it was a weak argument. Not needing to say anything, the other's expression spoke volumes. "Look, there's a reason, and I came over here to explain. Please let me, I've been ripping my hair out over this the whole time!"

Softening, the Briton backed up. His face was now one of reluctant concern, and Alfred thanked the Heavens for that. "Fine. Come in and sit. Would you like anything?" Tentatively he walked in, shaking his head side to side. The cushions were like they always were, though they felt warm for some reason. It must have been his imagination. Everything was the same as the last time he was there, sitting in the exact same spot as before. Something should come alive and eat him. Save him from this confrontation.

Rolling in with a paper bag in his lap, the man handed the parcel to Alfred. "You left your shoes here."

Humiliated, he snatched them away and put them down my his feet. Damnit, he realized that the morning after he fled from there. "Thanks." A hush fell over them, Arthur knowing to give Alfred some time to collect his thoughts. God he was such an amazing person, and Alfred liked him more and more as time went on. Damnit, he had to say it. "You were right. About the crush." Licking his lips, he continued. "I did... do have one."

Unable to go on, Arthur took it as his turn to speak. "I don't understand why you reacted like that. I've been scared to shit because of you!"

"I'm sorry! I just panicked. I, uh, didn't know I liked this person until you said something, and it just... confused me."

"I don't see what could be so confusing that you had to run out of here like your arse was on fire." Alfred only scratched his nose, and the older man sighed. "It's just a girl. I know they can be complicated, but you're a great guy. I'm sure she'll like you back."

"That's just it," he moaned, slumping into his seat. "If it were a girl I wouldn't have freaked out so bad!" Taking another big breath, he applauded himself for getting the first part of the confession over with.

For a moment Arthur was quiet, and from the corner of his eye Alfred could see his face contort to realization. Oh, he mouthed, and sympathetically rubbed the American's arm. "I see now. I didn't know you were bi."

Blushing, he shouted, "I'm not!" Alfred looked away. "It's just this one guy..."

Still rubbing his skin, Arthur nodded. The leather was not all that comforting, and pulled at his arm hairs. "I've heard of that happening before. Is the other guy gay?"

"I dunno... I'm kind of scared to ask him."

Encouragingly, the man squeezed. "You'll never know if you never ask. Come on, Al, find your balls and ask him!" He snickered pompously.

Glancing over, the blue-eyed blonde could not help but smile a little. "Okay then," another breath, "are you gay?"

Gradually, that smirk fell. A rosy hue began to smudge the Englishman's pale cheeks, as his perplexion shone with a slack jaw. Anxiety welled up in Alfred's chest, making him want to flee again. To hide. But that emerald stare was boring into him, rendering him just as paralyzed as his friend. Sitting in suspended, deafening silence, he intensely watched the other. Arthur's face was noticeably flushed now, and he could feel himself sweating. "Bisexual, actually."

Heart skipping a beat, the American ignored the painful sensation. "That's great! Er, I mean, so..." he stuttered, and groaned at his illiteracy. "Do you maybe want to go out with me or... something?" Alfred was ecstatic, but something bad twisted in his stomach when Arthur did not answer right away. Peering at the Briton, he saw his face contorted in a worrying way. "Or not... I mean, I dunno, I guess we shouldn't ruin a good friendship, huh?"

Not meeting Alfred's eyes, the man exhaled heavily from his nose. "It's not like I wouldn't want to," he half mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. They tapped against and swirled around each other, long and thin and filled with strength. "It's complicated. And has nothing to do with you! It's me..."

"You don't think I care that you're handicapped, do you?" Pressed the teen, leaning forward.

"N-" He stopped himself, snapping his round eyes up and around. Opening and closing, his mouth struggled to convey his thoughts. "Well, think about it. you're an active person, always running about and playing sports, while I'm stuck in a bloody chair all my life. I can't do much with you, and I'd only hold you back."

"Arthur!" Standing, Alfred glared down at the man, lips pulled into a deep frown. He would not meet his eyes, so the boy kneeled in front of him. Resting his arms on Arthur's lap and taking his hands, he stared right at his face. It did not escape him that there was obviously a pillow underneath the blanket, but that was only a momentary note. "I couldn't give two shits about that! You know what would make me happy? If you came to my games and cheered for me. That would make me happier than anything! It's impossible for you to hold me back at anything. You know I've become a better person since we first met? If anything you'd keep helping me move forward, and see the big picture so I don't get myself into stupid trouble and crap, and I'd really, really, really like to date you!"

Furrowed brows and questioning eyes stared at him. The debate going on inside Arthur's head was practically palpable. Pros and cons being perfectably weighed, and struggling with whatever other factors that were most likely unnecessary and overly complicated. Eventually he sighed, and hung his head. "Give me some time to think about it, okay?"

Not what he wanted to hear, but Alfred took it anyway. It was not a rejection. Gotta stay optimistic. "Yeah, take as long as you want, Artie," he nodded. His hope may have been dimmed, but it would not go out until the fat lady sings. "Do you, uh, want me to go?" Rubbing his lips together, Arthur nodded. "All right." Smiling, he leaned forward and kissed the Englishman's cheek. "I hope you say yes." With those last words, he stood, waved, and left.

His shoes were once again forgotten.

.:.:.:.:.

"You're curious about why I'm like this, aren't you? My legs, and my skin."

Taking the American off guard, he missed the drip of ice cream sliding down his waffle cone. Arthur had not given him an answer yet, but Alfred was practicing his patience on this one. It was hard, but it was important, so he was willing to wait. Maybe more of the man's influence was getting to him. Slick cold ran down his hand, and Alfred ducked to lick at it. "Honestly, yeah I am. Who wouldn't want to know what happened? But I'm not some jerk that would just ask about something like that."

With his spoon half raised, Arthur gave a fond smile. "You're a good guy." He took a bite, having asked for his serving in a bowl. Alfred let himself scan over the torso of the being before him. Sitting across from each other like this, one would never know that he was bound to a chair all of his life. Though he was still wearing long sleeves and light scarves. "I don't mind telling you. Talking about it doesn't bother me much anymore."

"Much?"

"You know what I mean."

"I know," he chuckled. "If you wanna tell me, I won't say no."

No one knows the specifics of Arthur's accident. In that respect, Alfred was feeling pretty damn special. Eating ice cream seemed inappropriate at the moment. Such a serious tale should be talked over something bitter like coffee, not a fun dairy treat. Though the teen supposed he and Arthur were pretty unconventional. Shifting in his seat, he glanced at the time on his stove. Madeline was still at work, and would not be home until seven. Because of her work, she has to drive an hour to and from the city. A tiny town like this had no need for a masseuse, although she was thinking about setting up one of the spare rooms as a mini massage room since some of their neighbors have shown interest. She worked in a clean place, with kind people, and made decent tips that would only get better once the woman built up a clientele. Sometime Alfred would cook dinner, so she did not have to worry about it when she got home, and the overflowing gratitude in her eyes made him feel like a superhero.

"I was only five at the time. My family took a vacation to Florida. We had rented a boat one day, and went out on the ocean. I can't really remember what happened, being as young as I was, but the waves were wicked that day. I was still unable to balance properly when I was standing, and one particular rock sent me flying in the water." Completely forgetting about the cone in his hand, Alfred listened intently.

"There were sharks. Two of them that were swimming close to the boat. They both attacked me. Bit each side of me they did, but after the first bite one left. The other bit me once more, my legs, and thrashed. But then it lost interest as well.. and left." Arthur had his head resting in his palm, eyes closed. "The only thing I can really remember is a lot of red and screaming. I was rushed to a hospital on the brink of death, immediately getting an emergency blood transfusion. That whole chunk of my memory is just a big blur, being on so many pain killers and through so much surgery. They had to amputate both of my legs, but saved everything else. I cover my skin because I don't want anyone to see the scars. They're ugly, and symbolize something I'd rather forget."

Alfred was frozen. Something so horribly tragic happened to such a small, innocent boy, and he still turned out to be an incredible man. Smashing his ice cream in the other's bowl, he hurriedly wiped his hands on a napkin. Circling the table, he hugged Arthur securely. "Wow, you're like, the bravest person I've ever known."

Stiffening at the unexpected embrace, Arthur weakly snorted and hugged back. "Brave? I fell from a boat by accident."

"Yeah, but you decided that you wouldn't mope around and get hung up on it all your life. You don't rely on others to do everything for you, you're really smart, and opinionated, and independent... Hell, I forget you're handicapped most of the time!"

He could not see the Briton's face, but he could most definitely feel his tightening grip. So tight, his hands were trembling. "Where on Earth did you come from, Alfred Jones?" he whispered over his shoulder.

"Washington D.C."

"Smartarse."

"Takes one to know one."

Hugging like that for what felt like hours, Alfred noticed a lot of things. For one, Arthur smelled very nice. A little bit like his house, but mostly like a forest. Trees, and grass, and fresh soil. No one should smell so much like those things, but he was proven wrong. He always complained that the American's home was always too cold, even though it was kept at a comfortable 65 degrees, but being this close he was surprised that Arthur really did feel a little chilly. But he was warming up against Alfred, and seemed to take that heat gratefully. Their ice creams had both melted, the rim of the cone saturated and soggy.

"Maybe being your boyfriend would not be so bad," came a dreamy sigh.

Grinning from ear to ear, he leaned away. "Really? Is that a yes?" Bouncing in place, he stared at Arthur with big, longing eyes.

On the other hand, the Englishman looked absolutely stunned. Obviously he never meant for that to slip out, but he could not take it back now. After all, it was the truth. Squirming for a moment more, he closed his eyes and squared his jaw. "Yes. I would love to date you very much."

Flinging his arms in the air, Alfred whooped around the kitchen. He felt overjoyed and extremely happy, like he was floating on clouds. Arthur had said yes. He had said yes, and wow the teen has never been so excited and relieved. Now they could go on dates, though it would be tough finding a fun place anywhere close. Around here, the most exciting place to be was the grocery when they were having a storewide sale. But he would think of something. If anything, Alfred was resourceful.

Bounding back to the Brit, he embraced him again. "Thank you thank you thank you!" he exclaimed, placing a big, wet kiss to his jaw.

Laughing, Arthur patted his head and discreetly wiped the slobber from his face. "Calm down! You're like an overgrown puppy right now!"

"But I'm so happy!" Snuggling close, he nuzzled his boyfriend's (Boyfriend!) temple.

"An affectionate puppy, at that," grumbled Arthur, but he did not push the boy away. He even gave him a peck on the cleek. Just from that, Alfred's pulse sped up, and his stomach exploded with giddy butterflies. He would make sure to make Arthur feel as amazing as he felt now.

.:.:.:.:.

Under normal circumstances, Alfred would take his dates to the movies. Nothing says "I love you" more than a giant bucket of popcorn with a 60:40 popcorn-to-butter ratio, and sneaking in your own candy. The problem with that Nowhereville was lame. Currently screening were Horton Hears A Who, The Dark Knight, Scream 3, and Bridesmaids; all of which he owned on DVD already. Also, Arthur had told him he did not like many modern movies, preferring films from at least a decade ago. He has made exceptions, as the American learned one night when he was blubbering over War Horse.

The second normal date thing he would do was take them to restaurants. Of course, this idea was also thrown out the window since the town only had a few diners and fast food places. Not that he would mind, but damnit Arthur was a classy dude, and he was sure he would not be impressed by such an unromantic setting. So here he was, staring at the water spot on his boring ceiling, at a loss for activities they could do. He wanted to take his new boyfriend out to somewhere fun, but everything he thought was fun was neither handicap accessible, nor Arthur's cup of tea. Having such opposite attitudes and lifestyles was certainly an obstacle, but he knew that with time they would be able to work it all out. Maybe he should wait until the weekend where they would have time to go to the city. There had to be something there they could do!

After so much planning and plotting, it was a given that when Arthur called and asked him to accompany him to the park he was taken completely off guard. All that time going into trying to make their first date perfect and cliché, he beats him to it with an utterly different kind of cliché. One that was simple, close, and cost-effective. Doubtful that it would be entertaining, the blonde did not let that thought out as he wholeheartedly agreed. But really, how could a park be fun? Even big parks never seemed very interesting, with nothing to do but walk or bike around nature trails, or play with the kiddies at the playground. Theirs did not have nature trails, and the playground was mostly made of old wood and chipped paint. Alfred shrugged it off. As long as he was spending time with the older man, it would not be so bad. Conversation would at least be interesting.

Another surprise was that Arthur had scheduled it the next day, a Tuesday. Only in the early evening so it would not be so hot, and so the teen had time to do his homework. He had said that there would be less people wandering around, since everybody usually stayed indoors to relax after Mondays. Alfred never noticed, but he liked to do that too.

Dawn of the next day was a blur, as was the afternoon. Fortunately Alfred was accustomed to the layout of the school, mapping it out and finding the quickest routes to each room. He was also adjusting to his classes with ease, knowing a lot of the material already. Ever the social butterfly, he had made quick friends, and chatted with them at every opportunity like any other high schooler. No one knew that he and Arthur were dating, and they planned to keep it that way. Their private lives were theirs alone. Then there was still the fact that he was not completely comfortable with this type of relationship. His mom was one thing, but the whole town knowing that he likes a dude? No thanks.

Someday he hoped to be okay with it, but not now.

It had been storming all day. Dark clouds and scratching wind blackening the outside world. Brusing rain pelted the buildings and land, while thunder boomed and lightening flashed, briefly illuminating the thick overcast. It had made the school gloomy and dull, everything seemingly tinted blue even though the lights were on. When the final bell rang, Alfred was sure their date was not going to happen. He rode his bike home, the umbrella he was attempting to keep a grip on useless as it folded up. Drenched and put off, he merely stripped, put on dry boxers, and huddled under his sheets once he got home. When he got tired of moping, he texted Arthur.

"guess our date isnt happening huh?" He dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, picking up his phone when it alerted him to a text.

"I wouldn't say that."

Raising a brow at the device, he responded skeptically. "dude, its storming like a bitch out there!" Shaking his head, he found his backpack and took out his homework.

"You'll see. Just do your homework."

"whatever art. ill just come over if it doesnt keep up."

"Homework. See you at five."

Rolling his eyes, he set his phone down and pulled out his Science book. There was no way this was going to completely stop today.

By 4:30, the sky was clear and calm. "Well shit," the blonde mumbled to himself in awe. At five he snapped his DS shut, and slipped into his shoes. Rushing out the door, he almost tripped stopping so suddenly when he saw Arthur waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Instead of the usual cotton shirt and scarf combination, he wore a thick brown turtleneck sweater. It looked like he at least tried to comb his hair, but the feathery blonde locks would forever look windswept. Contentedness surrounded him as he saw Alfred, a small smile brightening his face. Hopping down the steps, the American bowed lowly. "Oh darling, you look lovely this evening."

He covered his mouth with his knuckles as he laughed. "Why thank you, dear. You don't look too bad yourself." Alfred puffed his chest out in pride, but could not take his eyes off of the man in front of him. Everything around them was tinted yellow, and his eyes were confused at this. This calm after the storm was something that should only be found in fairytails. The sky was glowing, like Heaven had opened to give everyone a glimpse beyond it's gates. Clouds lazed by, surreal coloring taking Alfred's breath away. Yellow drenched the world around him, and as he gazed at Arthur, he was struck by how incredibly soft and angelic he was. Chest swelling, the blue-eyed blonde leaned down and kissed his date.

Arthur smiled, recuperating and pressed back. It was simple, but made Alfred's insides tickle and twist pleasantly. Made his breath short and heart flutter. "That's enough of that," said the Briton, cheeks tinged orange and eyes shining that lovely green, even through Heaven's light. "Come along, let's get going." Turning his chair around, he regarded Alfred with something that was much more than content.

Knowing complaints were sure to rise, the American flapped Arthur's hands away from the wheels, and grabbed the wheelchair's handles. "Allow me."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself."

"I know. I know better than anyone."

Remaining quiet as he was wheeled down the sidewalk, Arthur eventually resigned. "You're beyond too much." There was a fondness in his voice, and Alfred's lips parted in a toothy smile.

August would soon be over, and you could tell. Warmth still resided in the day, but night has been chillier and chillier. Especially nippy from the rain, the American was relieved that he decided to wear a jacket. Lighting the sky was the sun, but it was yawning as it slowly continued its descent below the horizon. Everything bathed in its radiant rays. Engulfed in yellows. Closing his eyes, Alfred breathed in heavily, the cool air fresh in his lungs.

Water darkened the sidewalk, puddles littering the concrete here and there. The park was a good half hour away on foot, but that seemed so insignificant. Dampness hung all around in their small, rain scented town. Birds chirped, happy to stretch their wings, perching on fences and telephone wires. A kind of peace enshrouded the world, and though it would not last forever, he was sure he would remember this moment until the end.

Moving wasn't so bad, he mused. Sure, it could get boring, but Alfred had never experienced life this way before. Back in D.C. there were always people everywhere at all times of the day and night. For whatever reasons, business or pleasure, the city was always awake and active. Barely early evening here, not many residents were out. Occasionally he would spot some people on the opposite sidewalk, or settled on their porches. Sometimes even the rare car would drive by, but here was never any urgency, all simply enjoying the peace after the storm just like Alfred.

Of course, the best part about moving was Arthur. Almost two months have passed. In that little time he has found a best friend, and maybe something more intimate if this relationship kept progressing as smoothly as it was. Just how much he liked the bitter Brit was unexpected. He did not think it was those teenage hormones either. They probably contributed in some way, but the American was serious about this. Arthur's happiness was set above his own, and he knows that he wouldn't mind spending every day of his life with the man. From his expressive eyebrows to his absent legs, Alfred unquestionably adored Arthur Kirkland.

Usually, the exuberant boy would avoid silence. Something about it made him uneasy, and he needed the void to be filled to be comfortable. This need went so far that the TV had to be on at night for him to fall asleep. Right now, though, it was not so bad. It's not like he could not talk, but every time he glanced down at his partner, he could not bring himself to disturb him. Arthur liked tranquility. It wasn't so bad.

Faded blacktop changed to gravel as they went on. The park was not very far away. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he never noticed any of the landmarks earlier. Beginning to hum a tune, a bounce found its way into his step as he crossed a bumpy street. His hands were kind of cold, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

"You like Blue October?"

Startled out of his humming, Alfred looked to see Arthur craning his neck towards him. He smirked. "You listen to modern music?"

Reaching back, the Englishman pinched him. "Cheeky git." Alfred stuck his tongue out. "I listen to what I like."

"Huh, so no specific genre?"

"Not really. I guess I enjoy rock types more, but I don't think about it much."

"That's cool. I like a little bit of everything too, but I think I listen to more pop and R&B than anything."

Arthur smiled. "That's nice."

If he was guessing, he would say that the English blonde was feeling the same as him. Filled with a certain type of giddy joy every time he learned something new about his person. He felt special, like the development of this friendship was advancing at hyperspeed. Like this could really work.

Only a block away was the park, and the American had newfound energy coursing through his muscles. "Hold on tight!" he whooped, starting to run. Arthur's shout was cut short before throwing an onslaught of curses at the boy. As they were speeding away, Alfred felt a bit dickish, and purposely wobbled the chair. It only increased the intensity of the swears, but he only let out a healthy round of laughter. Wind blew that earthy scent around his nostrils, and it made his heart beat faster, energizing him to a point he never knew was possible. Then Arthur's own laughter joined his, dancing in the air as they flew to their destination.

.:.:.:.:.

How could everything change so instantaneously?

Their date had gone fantastic, even though they did not do much more than wander the muddy pathways. Today he had decided to come over for a simple visit. Routine by now. He had even texted his boyfriend in advance. All Alfred wanted was a relaxing day spending quality time with Arthur. Maybe ask for help with some of his English homework if he were feeling up to it.

What he had not planned on doing was tripping on the plush rug right inside the entrance. He did not prepare himself to fall into the other blonde, knocking him and his chair over as well as himself. Immediately he pushed himself up, ignoring the throbbing in his head, shoulder, and knees. Who pushes a crippled man out of his wheelchair?! Scrawling to his feet to help, Alfred froze when he saw it.

Arthur... was not crippled at all.

Arthur wasn't even human!

Laying beneath him on the floor was the torso and face he had memorized. Attached to its waist, though, was something alien. An extensive, thick, scaly green tail. The camouflaging blanket and pillow were now unessential, having wrinkled and bunched enough to expose the man. Was he a man? Alfred did not know anymore, but this anomaly was blindingly apparent. It looked like Arthur normally wrapped it around his waist a few times, but had come loose and awkward at the fall. Unable to move, the American did not know if he should take solace in Arthur's stillness as well.

The atmosphere grew to be so tense, even Alfred could feel it. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck, and suddenly he realized why Arthur liked the heat more than anyone else. Perfectly still, the only thing assuring the boy that the Englishman had not died was the tiny rise and fall of his form. Grassy eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly open as well. Paralyzed, because this was not supposed to happen. No one was supposed to see. Alfred was supposed to stay ignorant, believing that Arthur was something that he was not.

Alfred did not like that.

But Arthur was still lying on the floor. Carpeted, but still uncomfortable as he was tangled with his wheelchair. Telling himself it was still the person he knew helped calm the boy. He was still the sweet man that opened his eyes and his mind to other aspects of life. Who showed him that the world could be beautiful. The moody cynic who debated with you until your face turned red, and would not stop until it was blue. Arthur was still the magnificent Englishman who took him on the most meaningful date he had ever been on.

Stepping over the wreckage, he bent over and hoisted him up. Wow, he was heavy. As Alfred walked, that tail uncoiled even more, dragging along the floor. Now he could feel Arthur trembling, aghast and staring right at him. They were both befuddled beyond belief. Though the American was not scared. If Arthur was going to hurt him, then he would have done so far sooner than this moment. What really convinced him that his partner was harmless were the memories of every kiss and touch they shared. Few, but always long and lingering.

As efficiently as he could, he set the other down on the worn cushions. Not knowing if he should pull the extension up as well, he let it be. Better try and make this go as smoothly as possible. Hesitation anchored his limbs for a wink, but he sat on the other side of the couch. Alfred did not know if Arthur wanted him there, but he did not want to run away from this. His heart was keeping him here.

On and on the silence drug, and Alfred was finding it hard to breathe. Being too loud might startle the Briton, and he... he just realized that he was thinking as if his friend were a wild animal. Sighing, he glanced over just as Arthur turned his head to look at him. Their eyes met, and he was struck by comprehension. It was no different than when they looked at each other before, other than their uneasy emotions. Grabbing a quilt that was draped over the back of the sofa, Arthur draped it over his lower half. Pretty steel gray covered the tail, with yellow accents and designs. Any other time Alfred would have complimented it. Scanning the other, he noticed that his skin was much paler than usual, and his Adam's apple was bobbing frantically, as if he were trying not to throw up.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, voice forced and muddled.

Silence shattered, Alfred felt like he could breathe easier. The dreadful atmosphere disappeared with it. "I don't want to leave," he shrugged truthfully.

Again, Arthur's eyes widened in disbelief. "Alfred, you saw. You saw and dragged me across the bloody room! How could you be okay with this?!"

Raking his fingers through his hair, he sighed. "Well, it sure is... weird..." Lifting his head, he stared right back. "But you're still Arthur."

At that, the man's face contorted to one of helplessness. Like a drenched kitten pleading for some food and a warm bed. A child unable to comprehend the emotions he was feeling. "You can't be serious! I'm not human! ..Not all of me..."

"Yeah, I've figured that out already."

"But-"

Grabbing his hand, the blue-eyed blonde leaned forward. "Then why did you say yes? Why did you agree to go out with me? Think I wasn't serious or something? That I'd dump you sooner or later, and you wouldn't have to worry about me anymore?"

"A part of me did, yes!" he admitted, looking down and squeezing those large hands in a death grip.

"Then why didn't you say no?!"

"Because I really really like you, and the bigger part of me wanted to try! I wanted to say no because it would be best! Because it couldn't last with me being this way! I'm a monster, but you're so goddamned charming, and stupid, and I wanted to be happy for once in my life!"

Unable to hold back anymore, Alfred scooted all of the way over to wrap his arms around his partner. Leg against what would be Arthur's sigh, and nuzzling into his temple. Hearing the other sniffle stung the back of his eyes, and sunk his heart. "I really like you too, Arthur. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone, and I don't know if it's love or not, but right now you're showing me that even though you're not human, you're still the Arthur I fell for."

"...You're a moron."

"We can get through this," he continued determinedly, ignoring Arthur's insecurities. They were nagging at him as well, but if he let that show it would definitely be over. "We should at least try! It's not so bad."

"This isn't even my real face..."

Tilting his head, his vision wandered around that sharp, soft face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I've been using magic to alter my face to make it human. I don't have enough to change my whole body, or this would not even be an issue," he huffed.

"It's okay. Yeah, it's weird and shit, and I don't think the situation has fully hit me yet, but we can do this! You're, like, my best friend, and I don't want to lose you over something as retarded as appearances."

"This isn't just about appearances," grumbled the Brit, but he shifted, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck. Fearful hands gripped his collar fiercely, crumpling and wrinkling the fabric. Millimeters and millimeters added up, soon setting Arthur on a jean-clad lap. The quilt slid down, revealing shining harlequin skin. "You're either the biggest idiot known to man, or are the kindest person to have ever been born."

"Nah. I'm jus' your regular ol' superhero."

A snort. "Idiot it is."

"Hey!"

"An idiotic hero."

Miffed, sky blue rolled, but a chuckle resonated. "I guess I'll take it."

"How is it even possible for someone like you to exist?" Arthur's tone was sobering, causing the teenager to reassuringly stroke his back. "You didn't run, didn't scream... didn't call the government to come and take me away... You just fucking picked me from the floor, and brought me to the sofa. You baffle me, Alfred."

Valiantly, he scoffed. "Like I could just leave you like that." He kissed his cheek. "I didn't have any other choice."

"Do you really think we can get past this? You're making me so damned hopeful, but I'm terrified to let my guard down."

"I'll do my best if you do." Squeezing him harder, Alfred buried his face in the man's neck.

Left to ponder, they wordlessly cuddled together. Doubts and figurative hurdles were stretched between them, making everything more stressful than they would have liked. But Alfred knew what he wanted. He wanted Arthur. Wanted to be with him even if he was some unnatural half snake thing. Or, maybe it wasn't unnatural, since he existed. As he held the other, closer than he had ever held him before, he felt his heart beat, and Arthur's body warming along his own. It was the same as any other person. "I'd like to try. I really do care for you."

Energetic hugging ensued. "You've made me the happiest guy in the world all over again!" Unable to contain his excitement, Alfred kissed his boyfriend passionately. Enrapturing lips kissed back right away, Assurance that they could get through this. They would get through this.

.:.:.:.:.

Understatements ran rampant through the teen's head. Which was to be expected since he did not have a giant vocabulary. Arthur would know the right words he needed. If they existed. For now, he could only say that things have been awkward. After he left that night, Alfred had time to think about what was happening. First of all, Arthur had been lying to him since they had first met. The sob story that had pierced his heart was but a tall tale, a script that had been recited exceptionally well. A sour taste lingered in his mouth now that he knew no such tragedy had occurred, but he could not entirely blame the Englishman. It was understandable that he needed to keep that secret. Necessary for his survival! But still left Alfred feeling foolish. Trusting a stranger so easily in the beginning was probably a bad decision, because now it was very hard to earnestly believe him. He supposes that he should bring these issues up, so they can sort them out together.

Then he wondered what Arthur's face really looked like. His words repeated in his head over and over, making the already inquisitive boy hungry for knowledge. Would it be like a giant snake head? That would be pretty neat, but at the same time a turn off. If that were the case, he would have to politely think of a way to tell his partner to have a human head around him at all times. How would he be able to kiss someone who did not have lips?! Hopefully it would not be a snake head. He prayed that it was something he could handle. Alfred wanted to accept everything about him, and prove that he would not be deterred!

With nothing else to think about, his mind turned naughty. Not that it would be any time soon, but when they were ready for sex, how would it work? Hell, he was still a virgin! Not that there was really anything to be ashamed about. He used to be, hearing about everyone's sexual exploits at his old school, and making up stories of his own so he would not be dubbed a loser. Once again, though, the wise Briton made him realize that some things society focused on were idiotic. When he really thought about this subject, he finally saw it as a lose/lose situation. If he were a virgin, he was an uncool dork that could not even get laid. If he was not a virgin, he was some player that slept around without a thought to the emotion of it all. It sickened him a little when that fact dawned on him, but being around Arthur gave him confidence to flip society off, and live how he saw fit. But... if he got his way, not only would his first time be with a dude, but a dude with the lower half of a reptile. Did Arthur even have a dick? He does not remember seeing anything the other day. How does one go about asking such a question?

Guess it was time for some private internet research.

.:.:.:.:.

Muted, earthy browns made the Briton's bedroom. Light on the walls, accented by chocolate, umber, and tree bark. Loopy, elegant wall sconces were flickering, tea lights giving the room a delicate atmosphere. Calming and relaxing is just what the duo needed. The past couple of months had been like unraveling a tangled skein of yarn, trying to smooth out their beliefs and emotions. Only recently had Alfred convinced his partner that it was okay to keep his tail exposed around him. That he did not have to hide under the blanket any longer, because he was not uncomfortable with his anatomy anymore. Honestly, he liked it.

Repulsive was a word that had never crossed his mind when examining Arthur's inhumanity. A myriad of greens coated it, and the man has even let Alfred see the patches on the rest of his body. In the sunlight they were mystical, like they belonged in another dimension. Sometimes they would change color in the right light. Ambers and grays mixed with the forest, and he just had to feel them. Calloused fingers never got used to the firm, smooth, slick texture, but loved it nonetheless. Arthur told him it felt slippery because of the oils on his own skin. Alfred liked to rub his hands over them, and Arthur always leaned into the touch.

It's what was happening now. Both boys were snuggled together on Arthur's bed, listening to the music playing from Alfred's laptop. He was caressing the other's hip, enjoying the feel of soft skin morphing into polished scale. Moments like these had quickly topped his list of things he liked to do.

"Hey Al," uttered the snakeman, unmoving and lax.

"Hm?" When he did receive an answer right away, Alfred shifted to look at him.

Lifting his lead from a broad shoulder, Arthur sat up straighter. He leaned against the headboard, eyes hauntingly bright in the dimly lit room. Every time they were together, Alfred saw an entirely different form of beauty emitting from his partner. Whether it be in the dazzling sunlight, the artificial overglow, gloomy rain, or anything else, it took his breath away. All of his different shades and tints reflected the atmosphere flawlessly. Placing a cool palm on his cheek, Arthur smiled evening sunshine, successfully blowing him away once more. "I love you."

Without any thought, Arthur was suddenly tackled. Hugging him close, Alfred unleashed a barrage of kisses all over his face. Neither had said "I love you" yet. Although he wanted to say it for a while now, the American thought it would be too soon. That Arthur would laugh and comment on his youth, saying he was obviously too young to know what love was. But he truly believed that these numerous clashing, overpowering, frightening feelings were love. Dating the mature man had raised thousands of insecurities he did not know he had, resulting in his self-confidence taking a rather harsh punch.

Scattered kisses continued to be littered onto his face; from his forehead to his chin, no space was left unmarked. Alfred was just so happy! His heart was going to burst from how full it felt. Backing off a few inches, he beamed at the flushed face in front of him. "I love you too."

Pure joy surged through Arthur, and he encircled the blonde's neck with his arms. "Come here," he murmured, pulling so their lips could lock. Contrary to their racing hearts, the kiss was slow and sweet. Lips moving without thought, the pressure welcomed wholeheartedly. Songs in the background came and went, going unnoticed by their distracted audience. Mouths languidly broke and came back together, heads tilting and breaths mingling. A clammy hand moved to Alfred's back, clenching and bringing them closer. On either side of the other's head stretched tanned arms, legs straddling his waist without an order.

Light, muffled moans could be heard, and the teen could not tell whose they were for the life of him. Something wiggled beneath him. Slithering up and around one of Alfred's legs was that tail. The muscle was heavy, but he liked the feeling. Opening his mouth, a shy tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip. Everything felt amazing, and he invited it in without delay. Never had they kissed so deeply, and a kind of contentedness mixed with the pleasure washing over the young American. Their throats let out soft noises as wet smacking echoed in their ears. Is this what love felt like? If so, he could think of no better person to share it with than Arthur.

The kiss ended soon, a lifetime passing in only minutes. Giving one last sweep of his mouth, the older man pulled away. He was a handsome shade of pink, and Alfred could see his own expression mirrored on alluring features. "Please don't let me down," he whispered, hand coming back to delicately cup his hot cheek. Trembles inconsistently shot through it, alerting him to how fragile Arthur's hope was.

Turning his head, he kissed its palm. "I promise. You mean too much to me."

Opening his mouth, the opposite blonde closed it almost instantaneously. Instead of talking, he pulled Alfred next to him. Resting his head on his chest, his tail looped firmly around his waist and down his legs. It was surprisingly not as uncomfortable as one would think. He only needed to slightly rearrange himself. "Nap with me."

"Nothin' I'd rather be doing."

.:.:.:.:.

"So... what does your face really look like?"

Madeline had stayed in the city for the night. Going to dinner with her friends, and hitting the bars afterwards. Since she knew better than to drive inebriated, she had planned to stay with one of the women she worked with until morning. Which made Alfred happy, because his mom deserved a night out to have fun. Plus, it gave him the opportunity to invite Arthur over his house for some alone time for once. He made his special pizza pasta for dinner, making sure everything was perfect for the intimate date he could finally give to his partner. Arthur was pleasantly surprised, and it prided Alfred to see him eat two servings.

Now they were snuggling in the living room. The leather of the couch was unagreeable with the Englishman's scales, so Alfred had found an extra sheet to cover it with. To keep their privacy, and Arthur's secret, they had closed the blinds. On the side table sat a lamp, lighting the area around them with soft cream. A movie played on the television, but the volume had been turned down to a dull drone some time ago.

Thick eyebrows raised at the unexpected question. "Uh..." was all he could get out at first, his mind obviously stumbling over itself. ""It's... Why do you want to know?"

"Natural curiosity? Come on, you can't say you haven't been expecting this."

He blew out a puff of air, looking away at a vase full of blooming fabric flowers. "It's nothing special."

"Come ooon, please?" Scooting closer, he sat flush against the snakeman. Pressing his lips to an ear, he kissed it and put an arm around his shoulder. "You know I'm not going to stop bugging you unless you show me," Alfred goaded lowly, "Don't you want to save yourself from my annoyingness?"

Narrowing his eyes, Arthur wiggled away as far as he could. "You sneaky bastard."

"I know how to get what I want," he smirked.

Exasperated, Arthur pushed his smug face away. His palm smelled musky. "Listen, I'm not comfortable showing you."

"Why not?" pouted the teen, shaking the hand away from him. Why couldn't Arthur cooperate with him once in a while? Acting like a normal couple would only end badly. They needed to accept their differences to move forward. Obviously this boyfriend revels in the opportunity to be himself around Alfred, so why was he hesitant to reveal his real face? Unless... "Is it, like, an actual snake head or something?"

"No!" exclaimed the man, pulling a face. "Why do you sound like you want that to be the case?" Alfred shrugged mischievously, and Arthur sighed. "No, it's not."

"Then why won't you show me?" Inwardly, he was relieved that it was not a giant snake head. It would be cool for about five minutes before Alfred would get nervous.

"Because it only makes me feel like more of an outcast, okay?" he spat, hunching in on himself. "I just want to be normal..."

"Artie..." He shook his head fondly, leaning in to peck his cheek. "I like your uniqueness. I want to know all of you, not just the skin you hide behind." Kissing him again, he let it linger, as if to let his genuine intentions seep in.

"But..."

"Hey, you get to see me for all that I am. It's unfair that I don't get to see you. You're taking it for granted."

As Arthur bit his lip in thought, the American could tell he was breaking through. Finally he sighed loudly, and slumped down. "How is it you can be so damn reasonable when the topic is something I dislike, but can't put on matching socks in the morning?"

"Don't even go there. You don't have feet. You don't know the warfare that is sock matching."

Shaking his head, the straw blonde blew a puff of air to buffer his bangs. "You're ridiculous." Sitting up straighter, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Don't judge me," he mouthed, meant to go unnoticed.

"Trust me," encouraged the younger boy, taking Arthur's hand and giving it a squeeze. Giving his friend the courage to go through with it, Arthur bowed his head and brought his hands together, Alfred's larger one clasped between them.

No flash of light blinded him, nor did the room fill with thick smoke to hinder his sight. Right in front of blue irises, Arthur's face morphed. Peach lips became thinner, and his nose slightly shrunk and flattened. As dark eyebrows shed, skin flaked off around his eyes, down the bridge of his nose, and along his jaw and cheekbones to reveal more shining scales. His ears stretched and pointed, shedding around their rims. Snakeskin also appeared around his neck, which had lengthened a few centimeters.

Breathing out, the newly transformed man opened his eyes. The sight took Alfred's breath away. A plethora of greens swirled around slitted pupils. Glowing, and changing with every movement Arthur made. They were like an emerald lightning storm, striking and dangerous. Bigger, or maybe rounder than before, those eyes were void of lashes, but the matching scales surrounding them was the perfect compliment.

Moving closer, almost as if he were in a trance, the American could not stop staring. It was undoubtably Arthur. Everything was screaming Arthur, and he reached out to touch the man he loved. Digits traveled across the entire expanse of his face, enraptured as they tickled down his neck. Every feature was sharpened, raw, and held a beastly beauty that he felt overwhelmingly lucky to experience.

"Alfred?" Cobalt snapped up. Arthur's voice had changed as well. Instead of that deep baritone, it was now like a resonant whisper, only a small amount of vocal sound making its way into the air.

"You're pretty awesome, you know that, sweetheart?" As the snakeman's eyes widened even more, Alfred smiled and drunk it all in. He was not sure which head he liked more, but he would not complain about either. They were both attached to the same man.

"Only an idiot would sstill be ssitting here with me," he sighed, showing his lisp and holy shit how cute was that?

Unable to speak properly, the teen just laughed and hugged his boyfriend. Nuzzling him until he finally choked out, "You're so fuckin' adorable, Artie!"

"And you're fucking retarded!" he snapped back, ducking to hide in Alfred's clavicle. "I can't believe you exist."

"Shouldn't I be saying that about you?" chuckled the younger male, kissing the top of blonde locks. Wrapping an arm around the other's waist, Alfred respected the peculiar body. It did not matter what shape it took. Yes, he was attractive in either form, but it was Arthur's complex, passionate personality that made the human stay. Arthur was Arthur, and that's all that mattered.

.:.:.:.:.

"What would you do if we never met, you were all alone, and you happened to run into me looking like thiss?"

Looking over his shoulder, Alfred momentarily ignored the bacon sizzling in the skillet to raise his eyebrows at his partner. Arthur sat at the round kitchen table with no magical make-up (what Alfred liked to teasingly call it), tail winding between the chairs and table legs. Sometimes they would do this. Show their insecurities to each other with fleeting questions, both struggling to get past this huge mountain in their relationship. With pride, the American usually answered his questions satisfyingly, temporarily quelling bubbling doubts. This question was the toughest he's had yet to hear, and was not sure how to answer.

"I want the truth, Al." Arthur was gazing at him so intensely, he instinctually turned back to the stove to break eye contact.

"...Give me a minute." Hearing a soft hiss, he let his mind wander. If he had never met Arthur, but saw him in his natural form one day? It was tough, because he did know Arthur. He was the sarcastic Brit who was more than capable of taking care of himself. Who had been fooling human society for so long, and would continue to do so. Having two skins, but whispered words of affection and care from one heart. His touch was both cool, and sizzling. Knowing all of this, Alfred could not come up with an answer. So he thought of a snakeman that was not Arthur.

Replacing the gold and green he loved so much, in his mind he pictured a foggy, dead forest at night. Total silence hung in the air. Feeling his senses heighten, the teenager's heartbeat speed up in a bad way. No warmth made its way to him, and he shivered in apprehension. Red flashed in front of his eyes, and right there was a beast. It's hair was pure white, gray shadows dimming it as crimson eyes stared at the human hungrily. A long, thick tail lashed out, black and constricting. Alfred felt his bones collapseing, and a terrifying face with huge, dripping fangs was suddenly right there. He was going to be eaten. Digested so this monster could live one more day. He was...

"Scared," he stated, stare distant and gripping the tongs for dear life. Transporting back to the toasty, rich smelling kitchen took a minute. He was not in some dead wasteland, but the goosebumps scattering across his arms did not agree that they were only in the house of their beloved. Chancing a glance back over his shoulder, Alfred's stomach sunk seeing the Englishman stonily looking away. Hurt was clear in his expression, no matter how hard he tried to pull a veil of indifference over it. Shit.

"You're not as stupid as I thought, then.."

Turning off the burner, grease popped and splattered onto his exposed forearm, causing the blonde to wince. Shaking it off, he stepped over to sit with Arthur. Grabbing his hand, he looked straight into those emeralds. "But that's instinct. You understand that, right? You know that scenario would never happen, and you don't scare me at all, right?"

Green fluttered up, and sharp teeth prodded his bottom lip. They could effortlessly draw blood. Obviously, Arthur had the capability to be a dangerous creature. Killing someone would be simple, and he did not even need weapons. He was a weapon. "At all?"

"Not at all," smiled the human. Then he thought about it. "Well, I am scared that one day you'll decide that I'm not worth your time, and dump me."

Baffled, the Briton blinked owlishly. "I-I would never! Yeah, you can be a right git ssometimes, but I'm not going to give you up sso eassily." He started out loud, but lost his volume more and more as he went on. Fluidly, the snakeman pushed himself up on the table, moving across its surface to be in front of Alfred. The American would never be able to get over how smoothly his friend could move. He was elegant in every way.

"Well, that's good." Scratching his shoulder, he hated feeling so awkward. It was always a challenge for him to talk about his weaknesses.

Arthur held his face, like he tended to do, and kissed him softly. "I wasserious, by the way. I would think you either mad or lying if you ssaid you would not be phassed sseeing me like thisss."

"Well, I couldn't find an answer when I thought of you 'cause I know you, so I imagined some random scary snake guy who was going to eat me instead."

Giving him a funny look, Arthur shook his head. "I'm sso glad I don't have your imagination, love."

"Right back at'cha, Artie."

.:.:.:.:.

Their love was a secret from the world. Pubicaly, everyone saw Alfred Jones and Arthur Kirkland as nothing more than close friends. Best friends. Madeline knew they were something more, but did not know the exact depth of their relationship. For now, Alfred was simply the happy-go-lucky, all American city boy still adapting to life in an off the map town. Arthur was the sheltered man in a wheelchair, whispered words of unwanted pity floating in the wind with every rotation of his wheels. Nothing more than what they saw in the small diner, or the park, or strolling around town.

Whenever the teenager spent time with his school friends, they never failed to ask why he hung out with that grumpy guy. He would only laugh, saying that he was not as bad as everyone made him out to be, and left it at that. Arthur was like a porcupine. Once you got past the defensive quills, he was a big softie with a shitload of pride. This little piece of news spread, though, and lead the townspeople to treat the misunderstood Briton a little differently. Before they were wary of him, thinking he was a recluse who would spit on you for looking at him the wrong way. In reality he simply lacked social skills because everyone was too afraid to approach him like a normal person. This changed, and now they smiled and said hello whenever they passed him on the street.

And Arthur was much happier. At least, from what Alfred would hear. Neighbors chatted with the boy, spewing tales of how cold and standoffish the Englishman was before he moved in. Now life shone in his eyes, and his smile was not just civil behavior. They thanked him for giving color to the monochrome Mr. Kirkland. It stroked Alfred's ego, knowing that he had helped a whole community grow. Even better was that the person to have gained the most, is the person that had become most dear to him.

All because he crossed the street to help a stranger in need.

A year had passed since their first meeting. Darkness shrouded their naked bodies, the bedroom window open and circulating warm air in through the room. Chirping crickets and croaking frogs were their soundtrack as they held each other, heartbeats and heaving chests calming to their natural metronome. One would think their jumbled mess of limbs and scales would be cumbersome, but both men were relaxed and in just the right position to cuddle.

Exhausted fingers ran through sweat damp hair, combing it in nonsensical directions. Arthur was running a hand up and down Alfred's hip and thigh, sending sweet, tingling sensations up his body. "I don't know what I'd be doing without you," came a whisper, and the larger man opened his eyes to stare at starlit emeralds.

Groaning happily, he flexed around the figure against him. Too groggy and blissful for a snappy, mood killing comeback he kissed him slowly. "Me neither, sweetheart."

"No, I don't think you understand." Electric blue eyes opened more at this, regarding his partner seriously. "I'd still be all alone if it weren't for you. I'd keep to myself, keep to my house, and live out my years in seclusion and bitterness. Love would only be found in books, and I'd be unhappy and all alone." Frowning at this imagery, Alfred tightened his hold.

"But I won't. I truly believe that I won't now, all because of the miniscule chance that you moved here. That you were kind enough to assist me that day, and that you compleyely accepted what I am. I'll never know how in the everloving hell someone like you exists, but I'm eternally grateful."

Blushing, the American chuckled and pecked his cheek. "That's it, no more books for you. You always make me feel dumb when you talk like that."

"As you should."

Sky irises rolled. "I should be the grateful one, you know." Arthur raised an incredulous brow. Or, he would have if he had them. "You've been making me a better man since day one. I dunno how such an awesome guy like you can be interested in a screw up like me, but I don't question it 'cause I don't wanna jinx myself."

Succeeding in flushing the Briton's face right back, Alfred could not help but kiss him again and again. Arthur's expression was one so full of adoration, it made his stomach flop, and throat close up. Kissing his cheeks, forehead, nose, mouth, and everything in-between, he shushed his lover as he tried to complain that he was nothing special. Those words evaporated to nothing, causing him to lean his head back so Alfred could continue kissing down his neck.

"Love you."

Sighs.

"I love you too."

Moans.

"One more round?"

Snicker.

"Absolutely."

Hiss.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

I've been wanting to do a snake AU since before it got so popular, really. But I never had time, or a proper plot. But then safire-is-misspelled on Tumblr randomly made a post on one of her blogs which was pretty much just three sentences with a quick doodle. That turned into this.

So done.

Please tell me if you see any mistakes, and if you have any suggestions on how I can improve my writing, I'd love to hear them! vuv


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